Awesome and Delicious, This Time at Dalton
by Keitorin Asthore
Summary: Kurt already had to deal with the Warblers' Christmas concert and losing Blaine's attention. It didn't help in the slightest that somebody spiked the punch. An outtake from "Someday You Will Be Loved." Klaine. COMPLETE.
1. In Which Kurt Gets Quite Tipsy

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

It was one of those days where he woke up knowing it was going to suck.

Kurt curled up in one of the plush red velvet seats of the Dalton auditorium, only half awake. He had only woken up half an hour earlier by David and Wes pounding on his door, hollering something about him being late. Reluctantly he had dragged himself into the shower, dressed carelessly in a tee shirt and track pants, and dragged himself down the arduous flights of stairs to the auditorium.

Unfortunately, it seemed like he was the only one who was so displeased. The other members of the Warblers laughed and chatted loudly, although how they could possibly be so cheerful at seven o'clock in the morning was beyond him.

Kurt scowled into his coffee. If this had been a normal weekend, he would have gone home last night. He could have slept in for hours in his own cozy bed, gone for a shopping trip with Mercedes and Quinn and Brittany, and then returned home for a nice dinner with his family. But no, Dalton had their stupid tradition of holding a massive Christmas concert with the girl's school down the way.

Kurt rubbed his eyes and yawned. Privately he was sure that this concert was far more effort than it was worth. They had spent every rehearsal since sectionals debating the merits of various Christmas songs over others and what the St. Liliana's Larks were going to select. And of course, the stupid debate over solos had started up again. He scowled fiercely as he remembered. On one hand, he had won a solo on his second try. On the other, it was definitely not the one he wanted.

"Latte?"

He looked up sleepily. Blaine stood over him smiling, a coffee cup in his hands. His dark hair was tousled and he was dressed in a Dalton tee shirt and sweatpants. Kurt looked away from Blaine to the steaming cup in his hand. "Thanks," he said, his voice still faint and cracking from sleep.

Blaine handed him a cup and sat down beside him as Kurt took a sip of the hot toffee mocha latte. "You don't look very happy," he commented.

"It's too early for this," Kurt mumbled into his coffee.

Blaine regarded him over the rim of his cup. "You're still upset over losing out on the solo you wanted, aren't you?" he said.

"No," he said quickly. He sighed as Blaine raised an eyebrow at him. "It still stings a little, all right?"

"Don't feel bad," Blaine said. "Everyone wants the lead vocal for 'O Holy Night.' You should have seen the Larks last year when they got to have the song. They fought like crazy. They ended up having to go with a quartet, and no one was happy." He frowned. "Then they took their residual anger out on us during German spotlight. It was horrible."

Kurt sort of smiled. "And at least I got a solo on my second try, I guess," he said.

Blaine nudged him lightly. "That's Dalton record," he said. "I auditioned four times before my first one. And you get to sing your first solo in the Christmas concert. That's a big deal."

Kurt smiled for real, even though he was staring at his coffee, and his cheeks warmed a little at the praise. Hopefully he could chalk it up to the hot coffee.

Suddenly Jeff came running down the center aisle of the auditorium. "They're here!" he shouted. Kurt nearly dropped his latte as the Warblers, nearly as one, stampeded past him to the back doors.

"Why are they so excited?" he said, clutching the hot cup in both hands.

Blaine sipped his coffee. "Here come the girlfriends," he said.

"Oh." They sat in companionable silence for a while until they heard the dull roar of the approaching crowd. The Warblers straggled back into the theater, mostly two by two, paired up with pretty prep-school girls. "Should I be scared?" Kurt inquired.

"Oh, no, they'll be fine," Blaine said. "Once the initial joy wears off and we get started with rehearsal, things will get back to normal. Trust me. We take this concert very seriously."

"I see," Kurt said.

"No, it's really serious," Blaine said. "One year, three couples broke up over the Christmas concert."

Kurt's eyes widened. "I see," he repeated.

"The girls are nice, though, for the most part," Blaine said. He stood up and grinned, setting his coffee down on the floor beside Kurt. "In fact…there's one of my favorites."

Kurt glanced up. A sea of girls- well, probably twenty or so- made their way up the center aisle, each one dressed in a carolina blue tee shirt with a gold bird on the front. They were led by a tall blonde girl in glasses; she marched her way to meet Wes in the center of the theater.

The leader of the Warblers council lowered his gaze. "Well, well, well," he said. "It's this time of year again, isn't it, Joanna Neely?"

The aforementioned Joanna Neely crossed her arms. "Don't tell me you're still sulking about losing so dramatically last year, Wesley," she smirked.

Kurt leaned over to Blaine. "She's one of your favorites?" he whispered. "She's terrifying. As in hormonal Quinn Fabray levels of terrifying."

Blaine held up a hand to shush him, grinning. Wes and Joanna stared at each other, then Wes took her by the shoulders and kissed her. "That would be Wes's girlfriend of two and a half years," Blaine explained. "She's on the Larks' council and they're both pretty competitive people, which means they're really amusing."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Poster children for a love-hate relationship?" he quipped.

"Exactly."

David leaned up behind them, spooking Kurt and nearly causing him to spill his coffee down his shirt. "Think they're going to come up for air any time soon?" he asked. "I think they might be going for a record."

Blaine elbowed him. "Just wait till your girlfriend shows up," he said. "It's like you and Wes have an ongoing bet to see who can suck face the longest. You'd better shield your eyes, Kurt, it's disgusting."

"Oh, I don't know," Kurt said. "You haven't seen Finn with his girlfriend. It's like Rachel is surgically attached to his face."

David frowned. "Where _is _my girlfriend?" he asked, scanning the crowd.

"Someone probably stuck her in the overhead compartment on the bus and forgot about her again," Blaine snickered.

"Hey," David protested. "That was freshman year, and she's grown a little since then."

"Yeah, a whole half an inch," Blaine laughed. Kurt sighed and drank some more coffee as the two laughed over inside jokes that didn't include him. This was just fabulous.

Wes and Joanna, now untangled, walked over to them, hand in hand. "Hi, Blaine," Joanna said. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

Blaine hugged her. "I know, it's ridiculous," he said. "Sectionals just took up so much more time than we thought it would."

"See, that's what you get for defecting from the chorus circuit to this glee club thing," she laughed. "I saw your sectionals performance, though, it was amazing! I didn't think Train would translate well into a capella, but you proved me wrong."

Wes slapped the back of his hand against his forehead in a mock swoon. "She admitted she was wrong!" he said dramatically. "Quick, someone record this momentous occasion in history!"

She rolled her eyes. "Very funny," she said. Her eyes flicked from Blaine to Kurt. "Hi. I don't believe we've met."

"Kurt Hummel, the newest…and most confused Warbler," he said.

She smiled. "I'm Jo," she said. "I've heard a lot about you from these guys."

"Good things, I hope," he said.

"Plenty of good things," she reassured him. He relaxed a little and smiled. There was something about her that reminded him of Mercedes-now that she had stopped being so scary- and that made him feel a little better about being surrounded by so many strange girls. "Wes keeps talking about how you have an amazing vocal range."

"He can hit the same notes as your first sopranos!" Wes boasted. "I'm telling you, Jo, we're going to best you this year."

Jo pinched his cheek. "A countertenor isn't going to help you win at German spotlight," she said.

"Is the game really that serious?" Kurt said. "Should I be afraid for my mortal life?"

"Probably," David said. "Jo, where on earth is my girlfriend?"

Jo glanced over her shoulder. "No idea," she said. "Should we go check the overhead compartments on the bus?"

"Oh, wait, there she is," David said, grinning as a petite redhead waltzed up the center aisle with a duffle bag over her shoulder.

Kurt blinked as David went up the aisle to meet her. While Jo had paired her blue Lark tee shirt with sensible black yoga pants, David's girlfriend was wearing navy shorts that said PINK on the rear and a pair of fuchsia tights. The combination was making his eyes hurt a little.

"Wes! Blaine!" the redhead called. She skipped up to Wes and hugged him, then flung her arms around Blaine's waist and kissed him on the cheek. "I missed you guys. The choral competition was so boring without you. Did you know that I'm still mad at you for switching to the glee club brackets?"

Seeing as how she said this with a bright smile, Kurt didn't think he needed to take her anger seriously. Wes laughed. "You'll get over it eventually," he said.

"Maybe," she said, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder.

Blaine leaned over to Kurt. "We didn't start competing as a glee club until a few years ago," he explained. "We used to do the a capella choir circuit." "That makes a little more sense," Kurt said, picking idly at his fingernails.

The redhead turned to look at him. "Oh! Who are you?"

"Lu, this is Kurt Hummel," David said. "Our newest Warbler."

"Kurt, meet Lucy Trevelyan, David's girlfriend," Blaine countered.

"I finally get to meet him," Lucy said. "The mythical Kurt."

"I guess you've heard a lot about me too?" Kurt guessed.

Her large blue eyes danced. "Uh-huh," she said. "David told me you won a solo for the Christmas concert. Congrats!"

"Seriously?" Jo said. "Wow, Kurt, that's impressive. Most new Warblers take at least a semester before getting a solo, much less one for the Christmas concert."

He could feel his cheeks turning a little red. "Um, thank you," he said.

Lucy nudged Blaine. "Oh, you're right," she said. "He _is _adorable when he blushes."

Kurt snapped his head around so fast to stare at Blaine that he was fairly certain he had given himself whiplash. Blaine didn't look fazed, but he clamped a hand over Lucy's mouth. "Jo, shouldn't we get started?" he said loudly. "Miss Medford will be here at nine to check up on our progress."

Jo glanced down at the silver watch on her wrist. "Crap," she said. "Yeah, we're behind already."

"I bet I can get the Warblers settled before you can get your Larks," Wes said.

"Oh, you're on, Wesley."

"Try me, Joanna."

Jo put her fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Kurt dropped his (thankfully empty) coffee cup. "Larks on the left," she hollered.

Wes gave a running leap and jumped onto the stage. "Warblers, to the right!" he shouted.

"House right or stage right?" Jeff called.

"Uh…stage! Stage right!"

Jo smirked at her boyfriend. "I believe I win," she said, gesturing to the rows of girls already sitting in their seats. Wes huffed, glowering at the Warblers.

Kurt sat back down as David and Trevor joined Wes at the front. Jo glided up the stage steps, flanked by two other girls that he assumed made up the Lark's council. "Ladies and gentlemen," Wes called. "Welcome to the annual all-day rehearsal for the Dalton Academy-slash-St. Liliana's Christmas Concert!"

Kurt joined the excited catcalls and cheers with polite applause. He didn't see why he had to be all excited about this. He ought to be at home right now, still asleep in preparation for an enjoyable weekend.

"Now, our arts director, Miss Medford, will be checking in on us regularly to monitor our progress, so we'd better get started," Wes said.

Jo pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket. "We'll start with the group numbers and work through those," she said. "We'll break for lunch, then the Larks get two hours of rehearsal time for their numbers, then the Warblers get two hours. House opens at five and the concert starts promptly at six, so we'd better get ready." She looked at Wes over the frames of her glasses. "Would you like to lead warmups, or shall we?"

"We'll do it," David said.

Kurt sat through half an hour of Warbler-led warmups. It was slightly odd to hear girl voices again; he had almost gotten used to the strange world of all male voices, although he did ache to hear a piano or a guitar or even the drums or something. At least the warmups allowed him to wake up completely (although in all fairness, he chalked part of it up to the coffee Blaine had given him).

"All right, first things first," Wes said. "Riser positions. Let's have the basses up here first."

Blaine leaned over to Kurt. "This is going to take a while," he said, his breath warm against his ear. "See, for our individual performances, we already know our positions and blocking. Now we somehow have to combine everybody."

"Yeah, I figured that part out," Kurt sighed. He folded his arms across his stomach and propped his feet up on the seat in front of him. "Today is going to involve a lot of sitting around, isn't it?"

Blaine slung his arms over the backs of the seats on either side- meaning that, incidentally, one arm was perilously close to being draped over Kurt's shoulders. "Well, we'll sit around a lot until everyone's in position," he said. He started ticking the order of the day off on his fingers. "Then we spend the rest of the day running around like mad men. Then we perform. Then we sit around and eat way too many cookies. Then we run around in the freezing cold until one in the morning."

"Please say this schedule finishes with 'then we all crash and sleep until Christmas'," Kurt moaned.

Blaine laughed. "Pretty much," he said. "Well, sleep till exams, at least."

Kurt rubbed his eyes as Jo summoned the altos to the stage. "Ugh, I forgot about exams," he whined. "If I was still at McKinley, I could sleep _through _my exams and still pass. Here, I could study for a decade and squeak by with a C if I'm lucky."

"You'll be fine," Blaine said. He squeezed Kurt's shoulder lightly. Kurt's heart started flipflopping despite himself, and he started to lean a little closer.

"Soloists for 'White Christmas,' get up here!" Wes hollered.

Blaine got up from his seat. "Don't pop a vein, Wes, I'm coming," he said. Kurt sighed and settled back against the seat again as Blaine stood up and walked towards the stage.

"Where the crap is my 'White Christmas' soloist?" Jo demanded, staring down the remaining Larks in their seats.

Lucy crossed one leg dramatically over the other. "She's on the stage!" she shouted.

"Where?"

"It's _you, _you dork!"

Jo paused and blinked as Wes started laughing. "All right, everyone just forget about that," she sighed. "Never mind. I want my 'Best Things' dancers up here."

David jumped up to the stage, following by one of the Larks, a slender girl with curly hair. Wes and Jo argued for a while over their placement before finally putting them in the very center. Blaine stood on the far stage right, hands in his pocket and his dark curly hair flopping over his forehead. Kurt sighed. It was so nice to see what Blaine looked like when his hair wasn't gelled down in a helmet shape.

"Soloists for 'Count Your Blessings,' front and center," Wes called.

Kurt got up reluctantly. It wasn't his dream solo, far from it. It was a cute little song, and it stayed with the White Christmas theme of the finale. But still…he would much rather sing the showy, soaring 'O Holy Night' solo than this. Especially since it was a duet. He cringed as he reached center stage, wishing hope against hope that he at least had a decent partner.

Wes grabbed him by the arm and steered him to the side. "Hold on, hold on, hold on," he said. "We've got Blaine and you on the far ends, and we've got David and Abigail in the center. Where the heck are we going to put Kurt and Lucy?"

Kurt glanced down. The short redhead had somehow sidled up beside him. "I don't know, where are you going to put us?" she asked. She brightened. "Oh, am I singing with you?"

"I suppose so," he shrugged.

She frowned. "You don't seem very excited," she said. "Are you all right?"

He blinked. "I'm fine," he said. "Just…tired, I suppose. It's too early for this."

She smiled and slipped an arm around his waist. "Don't worry, you'll wake up," she reassured him. "And don't let them fool you. This concert is actually really fun." She paused and drew her arm back a little. "Sorry, is this okay? I'm sort of…touchy feely. I drive David nuts sometimes."

"No," he said. "No, it's okay. I don't mind." She gave him a little one-sided hug, and he smiled. If Jo reminded him of Mercedes, all fierceness and snarky smiles, then Lucy reminded him of Brittany, perky innocence personified. Except…he had the sneaking suspicion that she was smarter than his endearing Cheerio.

Jo stepped back, scowling at the assembled singers on the risers. "David and Abigail, out," she said. "Wait, no. Blaine and…wait, I'm the soloist. Blaine, come over here."

Blaine strolled back to center stage, his hands in his pockets. "I see what you're doing," Wes said, tapping his finger against his lips. "All right, David and Abigail on the far sides, Blaine and Jo on the top center, and Kurt and Lucy at bottom row center."

Kurt stepped into the spot they indicated. "No, no, that's not how we want to stage it," Jo interrupted. "Let's try this again. Okay, I'll be on the top center, Blaine and Kurt in the center center, and Lucy in the bottom center."

"You're just discriminating because I'm short," Lucy announced, but she smiled anyways as she hopped into the center spot.

Kurt took his place behind her, next to Blaine, as Wes and Jo continued to argue over where the second sopranos were going in comparison to the baritenors. Blaine yawned hugely, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Lucy tipped her head back to look at him. "Are you tired too?" she asked sympathetically.

He rested his chin on the top of her head. "Yup," he said. "And the coffee's not helping. But you're wide awake, aren't you?" "You know it," she said cheerfully. "I am the dynamic combination of extrovertedness and natural boundless energy."

Blaine made a face and straightened up. "Kurt, at some point remind me to tell you about the time Wes was mad at David and gave Lucy a Red Bull," he said. "It was hilarious."

Kurt smiled wryly. "Well, Finn told you the story of my brief fling with energy drinks," he said.

Blaine laughed. "And he showed me the video," he said.

"What is this?" Lucy said.

Kurt sighed. "I tried to pull an all-nighter and completely overdosed on Red Bull and cookie dough," he said. "My brother still has videos on his phone. Only extensive blackmailing has prevented him from posting them on Youtube."

"White chocolate macadamia nut."

"Mm," Lucy said. "My favorites. Although I don't think your cookies are nearly as good as mine."

"I don't know, Lu, he made a cake last weekend that was to die for," Blaine said.

Lucy scowled. "Kurt, I don't think I like you anymore," she said.

"She's just kidding," Blaine said. "She likes everybody. Except for Doofus Tom."

"That's because no one likes Doofus Tom," Lucy said darkly.

Kurt stifled a sigh as they launched into yet another inside joke, but lucky for him, Wes and Jo rounded on the combined choir. "All right, everyone's in place," Wes said, putting out his hands. "Remember where you're standing. If you forget where you're standing, _Jo and I will kill you._"

Jo made her way to the top riser; Wes took his place on the far stage left. "All right, everyone, let's start the opening number," Jo called.

* * *

Kurt tugged on his tie. "Don't you people ever wear anything but these uniforms?" he complained.

"Nope," David said cheerfully. "The Dalton Warblers have worn our uniforms to perform ever since 1918."

"No, 1917," Wes corrected. He stalked up and down the green room, hands clasped behind his back. "Wearing the Dalton uniform offers both a sense of unity and a degree of polish to a performance."

Jo rolled her eyes from her spot beside Blaine on the couch. "Wesley, have you been reading the Warbler handbook again?" she asked dryly.

Lucy popped over the edge of the couch and plopped down beside Kurt, draping her legs over his knees and Blaine's. "There's really no need, he has it memorized," she laughed.

Blaine tickled her ankle, making her move her legs, and he leaned over to Kurt. "At least our uniforms are better than the old ones," he said. "The old ones involved poofy knickerbockers and very ugly hats." Kurt shuddered at the mental image. Not even Blaine would look good in that.

The green room lights dimmed momentarily. David leaned over and kissed the top of Lucy's head. "Time to go," he said.

Blaine stood up and held out one hand to Jo and one hand to Kurt to help them up from the couch. "Showtime," he said with a charming grin. "Are you ready?"

Jo smoothed her blonde hair back. "Of course," she said. "You better not mess up our duet, Anderson."

He offered his arm. "As long as you don't," he said.

Kurt trailed behind them up the stairs to the stage. Wes led the way, scowling fiercely. Jo and Blaine walked in front of him, bickering good-naturedly about their duet, and David and Lucy followed him with their hands clasped together. He stifled the urge to sigh. Their happy family of five was all well and good for them, but they had been together long before he came into the picture, and there clearly wasn't a place for him.

The Warblers and the Larks silently assembled on the risers behind the curtain. Kurt took his place as he heard Miss Medford, the Dalton arts director, addressing the gathered audience. He fidgeted slightly in anticipation. His father and Carole were there, probably Finn and Mercedes too. Maybe this wasn't his ideal production, but he was getting a chance to perform, and that was all he needed.

The audience applauded politely at the end of Miss Medford's speech, and Kurt unconsciously stood up straighter as the curtains parted and the combined choir began an a capella rendition of "Christmastime is Here."

He couldn't see anything from his place on the stage; all he could see were white lights in his eyes and a large blurry expanse of crowd. It would have been nice if he could see his family, but oh, well.

The first three numbers were more of the a capella chorus variety than a glee club performance- no dance moves, and a lot of emphasis on background sounds. But they followed "Christmastime is Here" by "Let It Snow" and "Walking in a Winter Wonderland," and judging by the audience reaction, they sounded very good.

After the combined performance, the Warblers left the stage. Kurt filed off the stairs behind the rest of them, but his shoe caught on a step. He felt a warm, sturdy hand on the small of his back brace him; he glanced up to see Blaine smiling down at him. Kurt walked quietly to the assigned rows of seats on the house left side and sat down. Blaine sat down next to him and gave him a gentle, encouraging pat on the knee.

The Larks repositioned themselves on the risers for their first song. Much like the Dalton students, they all blended together in a sea of uniforms- sky blue, black, and gold plaid skirts; long sleeved white blouses; gray vests with a gold school logo; white knee socks; and black shoes, most of the ballet flat or mary jane variety. Despite the sea of similarity, Kurt spotted Jo's silver glasses and blonde hair in the back row, and Lucy's bright red hair somewhere in the middle. They both looked serious and solemn like the other Larks as they sang a somewhat eerie version of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel."

The next song was much prettier, as Jo took the microphone at center stage to sing the solo for "Mary, Did You Know?". She had a soft, rich alto voice, and her lead vocals blended beautifully with the other Larks.

Blaine leaned over. "Wes has been saying since elementary school that he couldn't marry a girl who couldn't sing," he whispered in Kurt's ear. "He heard Jo sing in the eighth grade and decided immediately that he needed to date her."

David leaned in on Kurt's other side. "Of course, at the time, Jo was dating Blaine," he whispered.

Kurt's head whipped around so fast he nearly got whiplash. Blaine hunkered down a little in his seat. "You were what?" Kurt whispered.

"Sh!" Wes hissed from the end of the row. "Girlfriend is singing!"

The Larks transitioned from the more religious Christmas songs to a lively, pretty version of "The Holly and the Ivy," which included some cute, playful choreography. Kurt crossed one leg over the other. He could see why the Larks didn't participate in glee competitions, but he could certainly see them sweeping the awards in a choral competition.

The Larks began the introduction to one of Kurt's favorite Christmas songs, and he couldn't help but bounce a little in his seat. "It's Mariah Carey!" he squeaked in Blaine's ear. Blaine laughed silently and patted his arm.

One of the Larks started the solo for the song in a big, bright mezzo-soprano. Kurt frowned, scanning through the choir. When the soloist reached the first "all I want for Christmas is you," he saw the crowd part to make way for a very small redhead who strutted to center stage like she was six feet tall instead of five.

Kurt's eyes bugged out a little as Lucy started belting out the song. "She's so _loud_," he whispered.

"Yeah, don't ever get her mad, then she gets _really _loud," Blaine whispered back. He glanced up at the stage, then over at David. "Aw, look at him."

Kurt glanced over at David. A big goofy grin was plastered over his face as he watched his girlfriend sing. "How presh," he said.

Lucy finished her solo and blended back into the choir for their last song, a bright version of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." Blaine leaned over to Kurt with his hand on his knee. "We're next," he whispered. "Are you ready?"

Kurt nodded. The Larks finished their portion of the concert and filed off the stage in an orderly fashion amidst the audience's applause. Kurt stood up and followed the Warblers to the risers.

He had admit that he loved their first song. They had chosen "Sleigh Ride" as their opener, and Blaine had been selected to sing the solo. And it was just unfair how fantastic his voice sounded.

However, it was _definitely _at Kurt's advantage that he was standing in the center section. It gave him the perfect excuse to watch Blaine's…um, watch his dancing.

After the jazzy opening, they transitioned first the "The First Noel" and "We Three Kings." They were both very traditional songs in very traditional arrangements, which initially had sort of irritated Kurt, but they were still very nice.

The fourth song was definitely the best of the set. That was partially be "Carol of the Bells" was one of the best songs ever written, but still. And he loved the high part for it, especially since the first time they had sight-read the piece in rehearsal, David had mimed bowing before him and Wes had stared at him with his mouth agape, successfully rendered speechless- which, as Blaine told him later, hadn't happened since 2006.

His joy at the previous song died down a little when they began their final song. Wes strode to the microphone to sing the lead for "O Holy Night," and the Warblers began the background vocals. Kurt sang along with them, taking the highest vocal part, but it wasn't fair that Wes got to sing it. Sure, he had a great voice, but…but he had _really _wanted that solo.

The audience clapped at the end of the final number as the Larks rejoined them on the stage. Kurt stepped down to his position for the combined performance, Dalton navy mixing with Liliana blue. His whole body was beginning to spike with adrenaline. It might not have been the solo he wanted, but he had his first Dalton solo, and he was determined to do the best he could.

Their White Christmas-themed set began with "Snow." The different voices blended together wonderfully for the happy, upbeat song. It segued perfectly into "The Best Things Happen When You're Dancing;" David and the curly-haired Lark council member paired up for an impeccable dance number, almost step-for-step the same as the classic Christmas movie. Kurt resisted the urge to fidget from nervousness, but barely. His solo was next.

When the dance number finished, he stepped off the risers, Lucy beside him. Two stagehands brought out a low bench and put it at center, then handed each of them a microphone. Lucy sat down on and patted the empty space beside her, smiling up at him. Kurt sat down as the Larks and the Warblers began the soft, soothing vocals.

"When I'm worried, and I can't sleep," he sang, "I count my blessings instead of sheep." He had to admit that even though he didn't really want this particular solo, it was perfect for his voice. The melody had such a nice lullaby quality to it.

Lucy picked up the song at the end of his verse. "When my bankroll is getting small, I think of when I had none at all," she sang. Her big bright belt voice softened considerably, blending nicely with his.

They harmonized through the final half of the short song, the choir providing a soft, sweet accompaniment. When they finished singing, the audience was silent for a moment, then burst into applause. Lucy squeezed his hand as they rejoined the rest of the choir on the risers and handed their microphones off to Blaine and Jo.

The two of them walked to center stage to sing "White Christmas." Kurt joined the rest of the Warblers in the harmony, but despite Blaine and Jo's dreamy duet, he had already sort of checked out. Now that his solo was over, he couldn't wait for the concert to be over. It had gone on for far, far too long.

The audience applauded enthusiastically when they finished; Miss Medford walked back onto the stage to thank the choirs for their hard work and thank the audience for coming. Kurt raised up on his toes a little; with the houselights turned on, he was fairly certain he could see his family somewhere in the audience.

After Miss Medford's final speech, the Warblers and the Larks hurried off the sides of the stage, merging with the crowd to talk to friends, family, and the occasional admirer. Kurt slipped away from Blaine in search of his family.

It didn't take long to find them. Someone grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him back as he gave a startled shriek. "Dad!" he exclaimed.

Burt grabbed him in a hug. "You've got some voice, kiddo," he said, hugging him tight. "Glad they picked a song that made you sound so good."

"Thanks, Dad," he said into his father's shoulder, his voice muffled. He took a step back, beaming. "I'm so glad you came."

Burt chucked him lightly on the chin. "We couldn't miss it," he said.

Carole stood beside his father, smiling brightly. "Oh, honey, you were fantastic," she said. She squeezed his shoulder, and he leaned in to hug her. She smoothed his hair. "And you look so happy. I'm so glad."

"I am happy," he said. "I still feel bad about taking your honeymoon away, but I really do like it here."

"Don't you even think about it," Burt said firmly. "You're more important than some trip to Hawaii."

A pair of big arms suddenly grabbed Kurt around the waist and hoisted him up in the air. "Put me down!" he shrieked.

"Fine, fine," Finn said. He dropped Kurt on the ground and ruffled his hair. "That was a pretty great show, dude. Just really long. And there weren't any good pee breaks."

Kurt attempted to put his hair back in order. "I guess that's the sign of a good concert," he said primly. "I'm glad you came, though. I know it's a long drive." "Yeah, but we miss you and stuff, so it's cool," Finn said, stuffing his hands in his pockets with a grin.

Burt put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Listen, kiddo, we want to take you out to dinner," he said. "You know any good places around here?"

Kurt bit his lip and glanced around the auditorium. The other students were already rapidly exiting, probably to go change before the Christmas party. "I know of a couple places, but I can't go," he said. "I have to go to a party with the Warblers. They're really big on traditions and I think they'll be upset if I'm not there."

Finn frowned, and Burt looked like he was about to argue, but Carole beat them to it. "We don't want you to get in trouble," she said. She cupped his chin in her hand. "Go on and have fun. You'll be home soon for Christmas break, and we can spoil you to death then." She kissed him on the cheek and he smiled gratefully at her.

"See you next week, dude," Finn said. "I'll try to clean up our room before you get back."

Kurt scowled. "I would definitely appreciate that," he said.

"I'll make sure he does," Burt said.

Kurt glanced over his shoulder. There were only a few uniformed people left in the hall. "I'd better go," he said. "I have to go get changed."

"We'll see you on Wednesday," Carole reassured him.

He offered a little wave goodbye and turned to go. Burt caught him by the arm and tugged him back. He cleared his throat. "So, uh, which one was that Blaine kid you're always talking about?" he asked.

Kurt halted. "He, um…he was the soloist for the last song," he said. "You know. The boy one. With the dark hair."

"Oh," Burt said. "Well, he…he's a real good singer. You know, almost as good as you."

"Thanks," Kurt said, shifting his weight awkwardly.

"And he's…uh…pretty nice looking, and-"

"Dad, it's okay, this doesn't need to be a bonding moment," Kurt said quickly.

Burt relaxed. "Oh, thank God," he said. He clapped his big hands on Kurt's shoulders. "Go have fun at your party thing. I'll see you soon."

"Okay," Kurt said. "Love you, Dad."

Burt grinned. "Love you too, scooter," he said.

Kurt offered a wave to his family and left the auditorium. He ran through the maze of hallways to his dorm room and quickly changed out of his uniform. Thankfully he had picked out his outfit the night before- tight dark pants, a blue and white button-up shirt (that he was well aware brought out the color of his eyes), a gray vest, and his beloved Doc Martens- so it wasn't long before he was back in the Warbler rehearsal hall.

The council had outdone themselves. The spacious choir room was strung with a myriad of white twinkle lights and decked in red, green, and gold Christmas ornaments. The council table was covered with a nice tablecloth, a massive bowl of bright pink punch, and enough cookies to feed an army. The Larks and Warblers spread all over the room in groups of two or three, all of them in festive party clothes and talking loudly over the Christmas music playing on the stereo.

Kurt fiddled with the brooch on his vest as he scanned the room for Blaine and the others. He found them easily enough- they were sprawled on the couches in the center of the room, laughing over something Blaine had just said. He sidled over to them, almost shyly.

Blaine glanced up as Kurt approached. "Oh, there you are," he said. He scooted over to make room for him. "I was wondering where you were."

Lucy patted the empty spot between herself and Blaine. "How did you like your first Dalton-St. Liliana's Christmas concert?" she asked.

Kurt sat down as Lucy moved the full skirt of her royal blue party dress out of the way. "It was fantastic," he said. "You do this every year?"

"Every single year," Wes confirmed. He slung an arm around Jo's shoulder.

"I don't know what Wes will do with himself when he graduates and can't micromanage the Warblers anymore," Jo said.

David shrugged. "He'll probably just pick his college based solely on the quality of their a capella group, and then change his major every semester so he's forced to graduate as a seven-year senior," he said.

"That's not the only criteria," Wes said primly.

Lucy leaned over towards Jo. "But it's the main one, isn't it?" she asked. Jo smirked and nodded.

Kurt sat by awkwardly as they started talking about Wes's earliest attempts, as a freshman, to lobby for a position on the Warblers council. He'd heard it mentioned before, but they had all been involved, and they joked about all sorts of little things that Kurt didn't understand. And then they started comparing it to Lucy's attempts to make head cheerleader, to which she began to argue vehemently, and that led into a playful squabble between Jo and Lucy with their boyfriends egging them on, and…

Kurt leaned back against the couch and sulked unashamedly with his arms crossed over his stomach. He was used to feeling left out during Warbler conversations, but that was different. Usually Blaine sat by him with his hand on his knee, explaining what was going on and the various silly Warbler traditions. And that was nice.

But now Blaine was caught up with his friends. He and David and Wes (who were clearly best friends) were howling over inside jokes, and Jo and Lucy teased them unmercifully. Nobody really remembered he was there.

Kurt sighed. _Might as well drown my sorrows in empty calories, _he thought. He slid off the couch, unnoticed, and made his way over to the table full of cookies. He nibbled aimlessly on a small sugar cookie, but it left his mouth dry, so he ladled a little bit of the pink punch into the cup and took a sip.

It tasted like any other holiday punch, sweet and tangy but with a faint hint of vanilla. Kurt drained the cup and filled it up again. His throat felt a little raspy after singing for two hours straight, so he probably should drink something, even if it was full of sugar.

"Hey, Kurt, awesome job tonight," Trevor said. He picked up a plate and piled cookies onto it. "And congrats on the solo."

Kurt swallowed another sip of punch. "Thanks," he said. "You too."

Trevor gave him a funny look. "Yeah," he said. "Well, uh, I'd better get back. The girlfriend's waiting."

Kurt waved as Trevor walked away without getting any punch. He sighed. He couldn't even get Trevor to pay attention to him. And Trevor would talk to anyone. He refilled his cup.

He looked back over to the couches in the center of the room. They were still laughing over their silly inside jokes. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't like he was asking for a lot or anything. He didn't want to be the center of attention, he just wanted _some _attention.

Especially from Blaine.

Without thinking Kurt poured more punch into his cup. That was what he wanted, really. Attention from Blaine. He just didn't know how he was supposed to do it.

He had mastered the fine art of attention-seeking when it came to New Directions. Wear something outlandish, sing _very _loudly, and reply to any and all criticisms with a snarky retort. Plain and simple.

But Dalton, the Warblers, and Blaine in particular were not quite so plain and simple.

He ladled out another cupful of punch while he kept thinking. Why couldn't things be plain and simple? He liked things like that. Not too complicated. Just…straightforward. That was nice.

Kurt stood by the punch bowl for most of the party, idly sipping from his cup and refilling it when necessary. Other singers stopped by and chatted with him briefly as they picked out cookies, although none of them came near the punch. That was fine with him, though. More for him. It really was the best stuff he'd ever had. It was like…like strawberries and cream, but all…liquid-y.

The party had been going on for a while when Wes stood up and tried to get their attention, to no avail. Jo finally rolled her eyes, plunged her fingers in her mouth, and let out an ear-splitting whistle. Kurt nearly dropped his cup, but he didn't, so it was okay, and he drained it dry quickly before anyone gave him the chance to drop it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Larks and Warblers…" he announced dramatically. "It is time for the 2010 German Spotlight Showdown!"

The singers all burst into loud applause and shrieks of excitement. "Everybody, get into your war gear and meet us on the front lawn in ten minutes!" Jo shouted over the noise.

Kurt clutched his punch cup and tried to catch up to Blaine, but he wasn't quite fast enough. He caught Trevor's arm as he passed by. "What are we doing?" he asked.

Trevor didn't glance back as he jogged towards the dorm wing. "Putting on all black clothes," he said. "You wear all black, less chance of getting spotted."

"Oh," Kurt said. He paused to think about that, but soon he was left far behind, so he picked up his speed and trotted back to his room.

Okay. All black. He could do this.

He had…black pants. Black button up shirt. Black sweater. And of course, black boots. And he had black socks too! Perfect! No one would ever see him!

Kurt dropped the punch cup on his desk and changed out of his nice outfit and into every black item he had. He had a pair of black gloves, but they had big white logos on the backs. For a little while he just stared at them, frowning, because obviously he couldn't wear those because obviously he'd get spotted, but then he brightened, grabbed a black sharpie, and colored them in.

Too bad he didn't have a black hat. That would be perfect. Especially if it was a black fedora. Because then he could be totally like Indiana Jones, who was one of his first man-crushes, and he would be so hot that Blaine would be _forced _to pay attention to him because, seriously, who doesn't think Indiana Jones is hot?

Kurt strutted out of his dorm room in his black ensemble and made his way to the front lawn. It was cold outside, with a decent layer of snow on the ground, and for a moment he wondered if he should have put a coat on.

The Larks and Warblers stood on opposite sides of the lawn, glaring fiercely at each other. He squinted in the darkness and spotted Blaine, David, and Wes standing to the side. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Handing out flashlights," David said. "We're going first for this round, since the Larks beat us last year."

"That is their last win," Wes said darkly. "Never again. Never again!"

Blaine handed Kurt a flashlight. "Try to shine your light on as many Larks as possible," he said. "If they get caught in the beam, they have to go back to base."

"Which is the choir room," David added.

"When all the Larks are caught-"

"-which they will be," Wes interrupted.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "When all the Larks are caught, we switch," he said. "The winning team is the one who catches all their enemies the fastest."

"Last year it took twelve minutes for them to find everyone," David reported.

Kurt laughed. "Oh my god, you guys are so stupid!" he said.

Wes glared at him, but he was interrupted by the Lark council striding towards them. "All right, Wesley," Jo said. "We have five minutes to spread out before you start looking for us."

"Agreed," Wes said. "Trevor, begin the countdown."

"Countdown to what?"

Wes grabbed Trevor's arm and started poking at his watch. "Oh, come on, just set the timer on your…there we go," he said. "Run, Joanna. Run. I'll catch you."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that," Jo said with a wicked grin. She signaled to the Larks, and the girls disappeared into the darkness.

Kurt sidled closer to Blaine, but he had already joined David and Wes in an in-depth discussion of possible hiding places and key strategies. He pouted, but even his ferocious talent at making kicked-puppy faces wasn't enough to get Blaine's attention. Sad. He wished he had more punch.

Trevor's watch beeped. "Onward, gentlemen!" David screeched, raising his flashlight and flicking the switch.

Kurt fumbled with his flashlight, but by the time he had it turned on, everyone else had fled. "Wait up, you guys," he whined.

He jogged through the snow, his flashlight bobbing in his hand. Far off in the distance, on the expansive Dalton grounds, he could see other little bobbing lights and hear shrieks as girls ran away and boys searched for them.

Kurt frowned. He couldn't see anything. Maybe if he was taller he could see things.

He meandered around the lawn, ducking in and out of stately trees. They could work to make him taller, but he wasn't all that good at tree-climby things. Maybe just a nice bench would do.

He saw a low wall a few yards away and he brightened. That would be perfect! Just enough height to help him see better.

Kurt slid the flashlight down the collar of his sweater and giggled when he saw the light shining through the weave. It looked kind of funny. Like a wool disco ball.

He climbed carefully onto the wall and glanced around. However, he should have glanced down, because that would have helped him realize a few things.

Like how the wall wasn't really a wall, it was the lip of a fountain.

And how even though the fountain was turned off, it was still full of water.

And that there were large patches of ice on the edge.

And in particular, there was one under his shoe.

Kurt tried to take a step, but he immediately fell backwards, his legs flipping out from under him, and he slammed backwards into the water. "Oh my god, it's so cold!" he hollered. Or at least, he tried to holler…it came out more like "ohmahgersokol!"

He tried to get the flashlight out of his sweater. It slipped in the squishy grip of his wet gloves, but he tried to get a good idea of his surroundings. Mostly all he saw, though, were stars. He wasn't entirely sure if they were actual stars or not.

He floundered in the water, trying to get his balance back, but the water had soaked pretty thoroughly into his clothing and he was having trouble getting up. Oh God. This was just like Titanic. And he didn't even have a door.

A girl's face appeared in his line of vision and he swung the flashlight in her eyes. "I got you!" he said.

She covered her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. "Kurt?" she said. "What on earth are you doing?"

"I'm drowning," he told her matter-of-factly. "And I don't have a door."

She wrinkled her nose. "Kurt, you're not drowning," she said. "You're in ten inches of water. Stand up." Kurt batted at her face. "Rose, give me my door back," he whined.

"Kurt, it's Lucy," she said. "Just take my hand, okay? I'll help you out."

"No," he said. "If I take your hand, you'll just let go, and then I shall _drown_."

"Kurt, did you hit your head?" she asked. She took off her glove and plunged her hand into the cold water to touch the back of his head. "You've got a pretty bad bump. C'mon, get out of there before you freeze."

"Rose, get off the door!" he complained.

Lucy frowned. "Kurt, do you think you're in Titanic?" she asked.

"You're on my door!"

"Kurt, you are not Jack, and we are not in Titanic, and you don't even love Rose, because you're gay, remember?" she said. "Come on, get out there, you're going to…Kurt, why do you smell like alcohol?"

He frowned. "I dunno," he said. "Get off my door!"

Lucy rolled her eyes. "You are impossible," she informed him. She glanced around the darkened school grounds. "And now it'll be impossible to find Blaine, and he's probably the only one who can get you out."

Kurt pointed up at her. "I like Blaine, I don't like alcohol," he informed her, shaking his finger for emphasis. "Now gimme my door!"

"Oh my god, you are so drunk!"

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

OH MAH GAH, Y'ALL, IT'S A CLIFFHANGER!**  
**


	2. In Which Blaine Babysits a Drunken Kurt

Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.

* * *

Blaine crouched behind the retaining wall. He could see the very top of Piper Banks's head below him, and if he timed it right and lunged forward at just the right angle, he could totally shine his flashlight in her face and kill two birds with stone: tag her, and scare the living daylights out of her.

A hand closed over his shoulder and yanked him backwards. Blaine let out a very undapper howl and tumbled back; the noise startled the hiding Lark and she fled across the dark lawn before he could pick up his flashlight.

"David!" he wheezed. "What was that for? I almost had her!"

"I got a text from Lucy," David said, holding out his phone.

Blaine squinted at the backlit screen. "Com 2 fountain bring blaine," he read. "She never texts in chatspeak."

"That's why I think she's in trouble," David said, sliding his phone back in his pocket. "C'mon, let's go."

"Why does she need me?" Blaine asked, following him across the dark grounds.

"I don't know, but she's never done this to me before," David worried. "Do you think she's hurt?"

"I'm sure she's fine," Blaine consoled him. "We'll just check on her and get back to the game before Wes finds out and tries to kill us."

Despite the reassurance offered David, Blaine couldn't help but feel a little anxious as they approached the fountain. Maybe Lucy really was hurt.

Or maybe it was a ploy to help the Larks win again this year. Jo probably put her up to it. He wouldn't put it past her.

He could hear voices and faint splashing the closer they got. "Okay, you cannot sit here all night," he heard Lucy say.

"Can't move. I'm drowning."

"Kurt! Get up! You are in ten inches of water!"

David broke into a run, Blaine close behind him with his flashlight up. Lucy looked up at them from her vantage point in the fountain and scowled. "Well, it certainly took you long enough," she said.

"Oh my god, Lu, are you okay, baby?" David asked, cupping her cheeks in his hands.

"I was fine until Kurt decided to drag me into the fountain with him," Lucy sighed. "And now he has me pinned and I can't get out."

Blaine peered into the fountain. Lucy sat on the shallow water with Kurt's head resting on her knees. Kurt raised a hand. "Rose is going to let me drown, you have to save me," he said.

"But her name's Lucy," David objected.

"Yes, well, he thinks he's Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic," Lucy said. "Blaine, can you get him out of here before my legs fall completely asleep and we both die of pneumonia?"

"Uh, sure," Blaine stammered. He leaned over the edge of the fountain and held out his hands. "Kurt, can you get up?

Kurt made a face. "Are you going to take my door and let me drown?" he asked.

"I won't, I promise," he said. "Take my hands, okay?"

Kurt closed his wet gloved hands over Blaine's and started to stagger to his feet. Blaine braced himself. "Careful, careful," he warned. "Go slow."

Kurt wobbled precariously; Blaine tucked his hands under his arms. "Okay, you're almost there," he said. "Put one leg over at a time, slow and careful."

"I'm gonna fall," Kurt warned.

"No, no, you won't, I've got you," Blaine soothed. Kurt swung one leg clumsily over the fountain wall, then the other. He sat down hard and laughed.

"What's wrong with him?" David asked as he helped Lucy up.

Blaine ran his hand over the back of Kurt's head, pushing his wet hair out of the way. "He must've hit his head pretty hard," he said. "He probably has a concussion and he's delusional."

"Oh, he's delusional all right," Lucy said as David hoisted her out of the fountain. "But he was like that before he fell in."

"What makes you say that?" David asked, rubbing her arms.

"He smells like alcohol," Lucy said.

"What? No," David said. "Kurt's a good kid. He knows better than to drink, much less on school grounds."

Blaine crouched down in front of Kurt and pushed his wet hair away from his forehead. "Kurt, what have you had to drink lately?" he asked.

"Strawberries and cream," Kurt said dreamily. "You want some?" He wavered to his feet and grabbed Blaine by the hand. "It's in the choir room and it is sooo good, c'mon, let's go-"

"Hey, there, don't go running off," Blaine said, catching Kurt around his waist before he could topple over.

Lucy's eyes widened. "Someone must have spiked the punch," she said. "Did you have any?"

"I had a few sips," David said. "But everyone knows to not drink the punch, otherwise you have to pee really bad during German spotlight, and warriors don't take potty breaks."

Kurt let out a loud sneeze and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Let's get you two inside, before either of you freeze to death," Blaine said.

"Where are we going to?" David asked.

Blaine kept his arms around Kurt's waist. "Let's take him to my room," he said. "My roommate already left for break, since he's exempt from his last exams. Plus, it'll be easier to hide Kurt."

David held tightly to Lucy's hand as they walked back towards the school. Blaine turned his attention to Kurt. "Can you walk?" he asked.

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Maybe," he said. He placed one foot tentatively in front of the other and giggled. "Yes! Success!"

Blaine sighed. Judging by the way Kurt was lurching, he wasn't going to make it very far before tumbling into a drunken heap, and who knows how long it would take to get him up from that. He let go of Kurt's waist and shifted to stand in front of him. "Kurt, can you put your arms around my neck?" he asked.

Kurt flung his arms over Blaine's shoulders. "Like this?" he said.

Blaine moved Kurt's hands around his collarbone. "Perfect," he said. He crouched a little bit and put his hands on the backs of Kurt's thighs, trying not think too hard that this was the closest he had been to him so far. "Now, can you jump?"

Kurt could, apparently. He jumped so enthusiastically that it nearly knocked Blaine over, but he managed to keep himself upright and hoist the younger boy onto his back.

"Now don't let go," Blaine warned.

Kurt snuggled his cold, damp cheek against Blaine's warm neck. "I'll never let go, Jack," he sighed. Blaine resisted the urge to laugh, readjusted Kurt on his back, and walked carefully through the snow to the school building.

Carrying Kurt piggyback was…interesting. Being under the influence, so to speak, made him into rather unwieldy dead weight. He was also very wet, and the cold water was beginning to seep through Blaine's jacket. But Kurt kept his arms clasped tight around his neck, and it was sort of sweet to hear him humming under his breath. Blaine was pretty sure it was the melody to "My Heart Will Go On."

Blaine lugged Kurt up the stairs to the senior dorms and nudged his bedroom door open with his knee. David was sitting on his roommate's bed, and Lucy was trying to peel off her wet coat. "There you are," she said. "I was beginning to wonder if he fell in again."

Blaine carefully set Kurt down on his desk chair and disentangled his arms from around his neck. "No, I just didn't trust him to walk," he said, attempting to pry Kurt's soaked gloves off his hands.

"I can walk," Kurt said, his head tilting towards his shoulder.

Lucy sat down at his roommate's desk and pried off her shoes. "David, can you get my bag from the choir room?" she asked. "I really want to change."

"Sure," David said. He dropped a kiss on Lucy's forehead. "I'll be back soon."

Blaine pulled on the hem of Kurt's sweater. "Kurt, you need to get out of your wet things," he said. "We don't want you to get sick." Kurt smiled dreamily and raised his arms like a child. Blaine yanked on it, hopelessly stretching the wet wool, and managed to pull it over Kurt's head.

Lucy kicked her shoes aside. She was soaked up to her waist, but her upper body was still dry. "Is he okay?" she asked.

Blaine tugged on Kurt's boots. "It's like trying to wrangle a toddler," he huffed.

Kurt shivered. "I'm cold," he complained. "I wanna sleep."

He leaned forward like he was trying to get up, but Blaine put his hand on his stomach and gently pushed him back down. "You can sleep when you're dried off," he said.

Lucy tucked her hair behind her ears. "We need to get him warmed up," she said.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Blaine asked.

"Get him in a hot shower," Lucy suggested.

Blaine's mouth dropped open. "How am I supposed to do that?" he asked.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Get his clothes off, turn on the water, put him in the shower, leave him there until he warms up," she said. "Rather simple."

"Lu, I can't do that," he stammered. "I can't just…just…you do it!"

"Me? I'm a girl, and I've only known him for a few hours!" she protested.

"But I can't, I've…" Blaine's voice trailed off.

Lucy raised a knowing eyebrow. "Mm-hm," she said. "I know how this goes." She crossed her arms. "Look, just put him in the shower with his boxers on and have him hand them to you once he's behind the curtain. Simple."

"Believe me, nothing is simple with this kid," Blaine said.

They both turned to look at Kurt, who was sleepily plucking at the buttons on his shirt. Blaine knelt down, gently moved his hands away, and unbuttoned his shirt. "You smell nice," Kurt said.

"And you smell like chlorinated water and booze," Blaine said. He pulled Kurt's wet shirt off and dropped it on the floor with the sweater and boots. "You're going to take a shower, okay?"

"Mmkay," Kurt said. "Are you gonna come with me?"

Lucy stifled a snicker. Blaine refused to look at her. "No, I think you can take a shower by yourself," he said.

"Mmkay," Kurt said. He stretched his legs out and wiggled his toes. "See? I wore black socks. That way nobody could see me."

"Yes, you're very smart," Blaine said. "Can you take them off?"

Kurt leaned over, nearly bonking heads with Blaine, and tugged his socks off. "Uh-huh," he said. He laughed. "Whoa, 'm dizzy."

"Careful," Blaine said. "Let's get you to the bathroom, okay?"

Kurt looked up and frowned. "Why?" he asked.

"You're going to take a shower so you can get warm," Blaine explained patiently. He draped one of Kurt's arms over his shoulders and helped him to his feet. "C'mon."

Lucy sat down, running her fingers through the damp ends of her hair. "Good luck," she said. "Call me if you need me."

"I will," Blaine said. He led Kurt to the bathroom, mentally praising whichever Dalton headmaster decided to give the senior dormrooms individual bathrooms, and shut the door.

Kurt's skin looked perilously pale in the warm overhead light of the bathroom. "I am so cold," he said solemnly.

"I know," Blaine said. "Raise your arms."

Kurt obeyed, and Blaine pulled his soaked black undershirt over his head. He had never expected that his first time seeing Kurt shirtless would be under these sorts of circumstances, and he tried not to stare. Kurt was a lot more built than he thought- not hugely muscular, but sculpted. Really, really nicely sculpted.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Can you take your pants off by yourself?" he asked.

Kurt tugged helplessly at the button. "Nope," he said cheerfully. He paused and leaned forward, his eyes widening. "Will I have to wear them forever?"

"No," Blaine said. He gently unfastened the button and zipper, trying not to get handsy. "See?"

"Oh, good," Kurt sighed. "Because these pants…they, like…totally don't go with a lot of my other stuff."

Blaine laughed. "You can wear all your favorite pants," he reassured him. He tugged the soaking wet black jeans down Kurt's legs. "Can you take them off?"

Kurt braced one hand on Blaine's shoulder and wiggled out of the jeans. "Uh-huh," he said proudly, kicking them aside.

"Good job," Blaine said. He straightened. "Okay, now, can you get in the shower and take off your boxers?" Kurt immediately stuck his thumbs in the waistband of his silky dark blue boxer briefs. "No! No, no, no. No, not yet. I mean…get into the shower."

Kurt obeyed and Blaine pulled the navy and red curtain closed. "Okay. Now, take your boxers off and hand them to me," he said.

The boxers flew over the curtain rod and smacked Blaine in the face. He pulled them aside quickly and dropped them on the counter. "Uh, good," Blaine said. "Now, do you want me to turn the water on for you, or can you do it?"

"I can do it," Kurt singsonged. The handle squeaked and water pelted the shower curtain and the floor.

_And Kurt, _he tried not to think.

Blaine flipped down the toilet lid and sat down. "My shampoo and my body wash are on the top shelf of the rack," he said. "I know it's not your usual stuff, but it'll still work."

"Mm, thanks," Kurt said.

Blaine drummed his fingers on his knee. This was turning out to be even more awkward than he thought it was going to be.

He heard the pop of the shampoo cap flipping open. "Oh my god!" Kurt squealed.

Blaine sat up. "What? What's wrong?" he asked.

Kurt poked his head out around the shower curtain, revealing his bare arm and half of his naked torso. "Your shampoo is for curly hair!" he said. "You have curly hair?"

Blaine grinned. "Yeah, Kurt," he said. "It's really curly."

Kurt shook the shampoo bottle. "That is _awesome_," he said.

"Get back in the shower, Kurt," Blaine said gently.

Kurt disappeared behind the curtain, and soon the bathroom filled with the scent of shampoo. Blaine smiled as he heard Kurt singing softly. He sat there for a while, just waiting and listening patiently.

"Are you warming up?" Blaine asked.

"Uh-huh, I'm a lot warmer," Kurt said.

"Well, go ahead and rinse off," Blaine said. "I'll get you something of mine to wear. There's a towel on the rack, and your boxers are by the sink." He paused. "Please, remember to put on the boxers."

"Mmkay," Kurt said. Blaine shook his head and left the bathroom as Kurt turned off the water, shutting the door behind him.

Lucy still sat on his roommate's bed, braiding her damp hair. "How's he doing?" she asked.

"Fine, he's fine," Blaine said.

Lucy smirked. "Really? He's _fine_?" she said. "As in…very good looking?" Blaine rolled his eyes and sat down to pull off his shoes. Lucy flopped onto her stomach. "As in really, really, ridiculously good looking?"

"Oh, stop it, Lu," Blaine sighed, but he glanced up at her and grinned. "Yes, I think he's cute."

She beamed. "I know," she said. She rolled onto her back. "Wes told Jo that he's you all talk about."

"I talk about other things," Blaine protested.

"Only on occasion, according to David," she said. "So do you like him?"

Thankfully, David walked in before he could answer, carrying a light blue duffel bag and flanked by Jo, who carried a cup in her hands. "Here, babe," David said, handing Lucy the bag.

"Ooh, thanks," Lucy said, scrambling off the bed. She unzipped the bag and shook out her party dress.

"So Kurt's drunk?" Jo asked flatly.

"He's drunk," Blaine confirmed. "I made him take a shower so he could get warm, and hopefully sober up."

"Did it work?" David asked.

"Yes, he's warm, oh no, he's not sober," Blaine said. "What on earth did they put in the punch?"

Jo held out the cup. "No idea, but I took a sip, and I'm pretty sure it's mostly alcohol," she said.

Lucy tugged her dress over her head and readjusted it on her shoulders. "Let me," she said. Jo held out the cup and she took a tentative sip. "Mm. Vanilla vodka. Probably 75% vodka, I'd say. Whew, that's strong."

Blaine quirked an eyebrow. "And you know that how?" he asked skeptically.

"You learn things when your parents own a restaurant," Lucy said. She swished the pink contents of the clear cup. "He'd had to have had a lot of punch, and be a total lightweight, to get this drunk. He probably spent the whole party standing at the snack table."

"I didn't even see him get up from the couch," David said.

"He left at some point," Jo shrugged. "I didn't notice."

Blaine stared at the cup as Jo set it down on his desk. "I didn't either," he said.

David checked his watch. "We'd better get back before Wes realizes all of us are gone," he said. "Lucy, you should stay here with Blaine and Kurt. I don't want you to get sick out there in the cold." Lucy tilted her chin towards him and he kissed her.

"I'll scope out the Larks, see if one of them knows anything about the vodka," Jo said. She scowled. "If one of my girls did it, they won't be a Lark for long."

"Ooh, aren't you scary," Blaine grinned.

Jo gave him a playful nudge. "Good luck with Kurt," she said. "He's probably due to start his epic hangover soon."

"Yeah, we should go," David said, propelling Jo out the door. It shut tight behind them.

Lucy pulled her long red hair into a loose bun as Blaine rummaged through his drawers in search of something for Kurt to wear. The water had turned off a while earlier, and he would probably come out soon.

Sure enough, the bathroom door creaked open. "Blaine?" Kurt whined.

"Lucy, is it safe to turn around?" Blaine asked.

"He's got the boxers on and they're not backwards or inside out," Lucy reported. "Go ahead."

Blaine turned around, and while it was technically safe, he still wasn't entirely prepared. Kurt leaned against the doorway dressed only in his boxer briefs with a towel in his hand. His wet hair was plastered down to his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the water. "Hey," Blaine stammered. "I, uh, got some clothes for you."

"Mmkay," Kurt said, dropping the wet towel on the floor.

Lucy laughed. "I got it," she said, sliding off the bed. "You just get him to wear some pants."

Blaine held out the tee shirt and pajama pants. "Can you put these on yourself, or do you need help?" he asked.

Kurt took the tee shirt and thrust one arm through the neck hole. He giggled. "Whoa, this shirt is for people with fat arms!" he said.

Blaine took the shirt and guided the center hole over Kurt's head. "That's for your head," he said. "Now put your arms through the sleeves."

Lucy draped Kurt's towel on the rack. "At least he's a cute drunk, instead of a belligerent one," she commented.

Blaine handed him the pants. "Here, put these on," he said.

Kurt thrust one leg through. "Where'd these come from?" he asked.

"They're mine," Blaine said as Kurt tugged the pants up.

Kurt halted. "That's really funny!" he laughed. "I'm getting in your pants, Blaine! I'm getting in your pants!"

Lucy let out a very unladylike snort. "Yes, it's very funny," Blaine sighed. "Put your pants on, Kurt."

Kurt obeyed. The red tee shirt was a little baggy around his ribcage, and the waistband sagged down to his hips, exposing a line of pale skin. He smiled dreamily at Blaine, but then he caught a glimpse of the punch cup on the desk. "Ooh! Punch!"

"Oh, no," Blaine said. "No more for you. Lu, can you dump it out?"

"I'm on it," she said, grabbing the cup before Kurt could stagger towards it. She slapped Kurt's hand playfully away. "No, no! Naughty. No more booze for you."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Booze? I didn't have booze," he said scornfully.

"Have you ever had alcohol before, Kurt?" Blaine asked.

Kurt held up a finger. "Jus' once," he said. "It was chablis. It was awesome and it made me delicious." He paused. "No, wait, it was delicious and it made me awesome, _damn_!"

"All right, it's official, cutest drunk ever," Lucy said. Kurt wavered a little on his feet. "Ooh, I think he might reaching hangover time. And that is definitely _not _going to be cute."

Blaine slipped his arm around Kurt's waist. "Do you want to lie down?" he asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm all…dizzy and stuff…but um…" He placed his hand over his mouth.

"Kurt, are you going to throw up?" Blaine asked warily.

Kurt nodded. Blaine blanched. He wasn't quite prepared for this part.

"Blaine? Want me to take over?" Lucy said. "I babysit. I'm not fazed by barf."

"Yes, please," Blaine said gratefully. He handed Kurt over to Lucy.

The petite girl put her arms around Kurt's waist and guided him back to the bathroom. "Come on, honey, it's okay," she said.

"I'm gonna throw up," Kurt said, his voice muffled behind his hand.

"I know. Just don't do it yet."

Lucy coaxed Kurt into the bathroom and closed the door. Blaine quickly busied himself with changing out of his German spotlight getup, trying to avoid the sound of Kurt retching. He had never done well with vomit. Personally, he tried to avoid it. Wes and David claimed it was because "a dapper gentleman doth not hurl," but he usually just chucked his pocket watch at their heads and pretended not to listen.

By the time Kurt and Lucy emerged from the bathroom, Blaine had changed out of his black clothes, into his pajamas, brushed some of the gel out of his hair, and had already memorized the first four lines of the monologue he was supposed to deliver for his theatre final. He turned around at his desk as the bathroom door opened.

"Well, I think he's good for a while," Lucy said cheerfully.

Kurt sagged against Lucy's side. "I feel so gross," he mumbled.

Blaine got up and took Kurt by the hands. "You want to lie down now?" he asked gently. Kurt nodded, then winced. "Is the room spinning?"

"Mm-hm, like a lot," Kurt slurred.

Blaine led him over to the bed and pulled the comforter and sheets back. "You know how I said I was used to barf because I babysit?" Lucy said as she helped Kurt sit down. "Yeah, he threw up way more than your typical toddler."

Kurt leaned back against the pillows as Blaine propped him up. He smiled sleepily, one corner of his mouth turning up more than another. "Hey, hey Blaine," he said. "First…I was in your pants. Now…I'm in your pants…_and _your bed."

"Not really how you expected your first time to be, eh, Blaine?" Lucy quipped as she tucked the blankets around Kurt.

"You hush," Blaine said. He sat down beside him. "Okay, Kurt. Do you need anything?"

Kurt smiled up at him, his blue eyes shining. "I dunno," he said sweetly.

"He's going to need to drink a lot of water," Lucy interrupted. "And he'll need something for that killer headache of his."

"I've got some water bottles in my mini fridge, and there's some Tylenol in the medicine cabinet," Blaine said.

Lucy made a face. "I thought you could get it, but fine," she said.

Blaine put his hand over Kurt's. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Sleepy…headachey…" Kurt murmured.

"What about the bump on your head? Does it hurt?" Blaine asked.

Kurt frowned. "I don't know," he said.

Lucy handed Blaine the water bottle; he uncapped it and placed it cautiously in Kurt's hands. "Don't spill it," he cautioned. "Lucy, do you think he has a concussion?"

"I don't know, do I look like a medical professional?" she said. "Check to see if his eyes are dilated, I think that's usually a sign."

Blaine tilted Kurt's chin so he could check his pupils. "They look all right," he reported.

"What about the color of his eyes?" Lucy said.

"They're sort of variegated, between blue and green and gray, but right now they look more blue," Blaine said. "Why? Is that important?"

"Not where the concussion is concerned," Lucy grinned. "Good to know you've got his eye color down so well."

"Stop teasing me," Blaine sighed as Lucy placed two little red pills in Kurt's hand. "No, Kurt, don't chew those. Put them in your mouth and drink some water."

Kurt drank obediently, gulping the pills down. "I don't feel good," he said.

"Drink the rest of your water," Blaine said gently.

"Maybe Blaine can rub your back when you're done," Lucy suggested. "That would probably make you feel better."

Blaine whipped his head around to glare at Lucy. Kurt smiled angelically at him over the top of his water bottle. "That would be nice," he said drowsily.

"I blame you for this," Blaine sighed.

"What did I do?" Lucy asked innocently. "Wes and David tell Jo and I all the time about how you've got the total hots for Kurt, but you won't do anything about it."

"I don't think they know the whole story," Blaine said. "What do you know about him?"

"Besides the boyfriends repeating your glowing praises of Kurt's good looks, wit, and charm?" Lucy said. "Very little."

Kurt tried to hand the empty water bottle back to Blaine and it nearly slipped through his fingers. "I'm done," he said. "Can you rub my back now? Please? It sounds so nice…"

"Fine," Blaine said. "Lie down on your stomach." Kurt obeyed, sliding down and flipping over. Blaine pulled the comforters back and rubbed his thumbs against his shoulders. "So what's wrong?" Lucy whispered.

"He was getting bullied so badly at his old school that he was forced to transfer, midsemester," Blaine said. "The bullying got…really personal, and really dangerous."

Lucy frowned. "What do you mean by that?" she asked. She moved to sit on the edge of Kurt's bed, next to Blaine.

Blaine moved his hands down to Kurt's shoulderblades, massaging his slender back gently. Kurt sighed and rested his cheek on his crossed forearms, already half asleep. "Too personal," he said. "There were some…situations that he was forced into that really shook him. And he's never been in a relationship before, or even been kissed. The last thing I want to do is try to get him into a relationship with me, just because I like him. It wouldn't be fair."

"Fair to him, you mean," Lucy said. "Not quite so fair for you. You deserve to finally be in a happy relationship with someone."

Blaine rubbed small circles into Kurt's back. "I have time," he said. "Right now, he just needs someone to be there for him. If he's interested in me, then I'll just wait for him to make some kind of move."

"You might not have to wait very long for that," Lucy said.

Blaine frowned. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

She reached over and tentatively smoothed Kurt's damp, disheveled hair. "He told me he likes you," she said.

Blaine sat up, startled. "What?" he said. "Why do you…how did…"

"Granted, he was inebriated and in a fountain at the time, but he definitely said 'I like Blaine, I don't like alcohol' when I asked him if he was drunk," Lucy said.

"But that could mean anything!" Blaine said. "He might mean that he _like _likes me, or he just likes me as a friend, or as a classmate, or…"

Lucy laughed and squeezed his upper arm. "Don't worry about it so much," she said. "I saw how he was looking at you during the concert. He definitely _like _likes you."

Blaine looked down at Kurt. He looked mostly asleep at this point, his hair damp and his eyelashes brushing against his rosy cheeks and a soft smile playing on his lips. "Really?" he said.

"Really," Lucy said. She scooted closer to Blaine and put her arm around his shoulders. "And Jo's right. You really do like him."

"Yeah…" he admitted. He ran his hand through his dark hair. "I'm so glad he's asleep right now. I don't think I could-"

Suddenly a pair of arms draped around his neck. "Whatcha talking about?" Kurt asked.

Blaine straightened. "Nothing," he said.

Kurt smiled dreamily and leaned over Blaine's shoulder, sliding between Blaine and Lucy. "I wanna talk too," he said. "I like talking. Nobody would talk to me earlier."

Blaine looked at Lucy over Kurt's head. Lucy shrugged. "What do you mean, Kurt?" he asked.

"Nobody talked to me at the party, so I jus' drank a lot of punch," Kurt said lazily. He smiled. "I want some punch. I'm gonna get some more…"

He leaned forward and rolled over Lucy's lap. She grabbed him before he tumble to the floor. "Oh my god!" she said. "Kurt, stop being dumb!"

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt and picked him up. "At least the dumb will go away when he's not drunk anymore," he said. He dragged Kurt back to the pillows and made him lie down again. "Kurt, what do you mean by 'no one would talk to you'?"

Kurt leaned forward, tapping his forehead against Blaine's. He could still smell the hint of strawberries, vanilla, and booze on Kurt's breath. "You don't need me," he whispered. "You've got other friends, and nobody needs me."

Blaine scooted forward and put his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "Yes, I do," he reassured him. "Did you really feel like I was leaving you out?"

Kurt nodded. His eyes were soft and still very, very blue. "Don't you like me?" he said in a small voice.

Blaine looked helplessly at Lucy. "Well?" she said. "Quick, truth or lie? And remember, he probably won't remember in the morning."

"What if he does?" Blaine hissed.

"Then maybe this will move you along a little," Lucy shrugged.

Blaine rolled his eyes and looked back at Kurt, whose blue eyes had begun to water. "Yes, of course, I like you," he said helplessly.

Kurt rubbed his damp eyes. "Mmkay," he said, and he flopped backwards onto the bed. "I'm tired."

Blaine facepalmed. Lucy laughed. "This is going well," she said. "Ooh, I can't wait to tell the boys and Jo about this."

"Oh, please don't," Blaine said. "They'll never let me live it down."

"Live what down?" Jo asked as she walked into Blaine's dorm room, flanked by Wes and David.

"Nothing," Lucy said.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Game's over?" he said. "Who won?"

"Us!" Wes said gleefully. "Which is as it should be."

"Yeah, yeah, just wait till next year," Jo said, elbowing her boyfriend playfully in the ribs.

"So how's our little drunkard?" David asked.

Kurt frowned. "Not drunk," he said. His eyes started to fill with tears again. "I'm not drunk!"

"I think he's going from cute drunk to crying drunk," Lucy said.

"He's not going to throw up on us, is he?" Wes asked warily.

"No, no, I think he got most of that out of his system earlier," Blaine said.

Kurt's chin trembled. "I don't feel good," he mumbled. He wrapped his arms around his stomach. "My stomach hurts, and my head hurts, and…I want my mom."

Lucy's eyes softened. "Blaine, do you think maybe you call his mom for him?" she said. "Maybe that could help him feel a little better."

"I thought his mom was dead," Wes said.

Kurt burst into tears. "Just like Bambi!" he sobbed.

"What?" Jo said.

Lucy's jaw dropped. "His mother's dead?" she said. She scooted closer to Kurt and put her arms around him as he buried his face in his hands and bawled. "Oh, poor baby."

"Great, now you've done it," David sighed.

"Done what?" Wes said.

"You can't just tell Lucy that something cute needs a mother," David said, exasperated. He gestured towards his girlfriend, who was petting Kurt's hair and shushing him gently. "This is why she has a puppy, three kittens, two rabbits, and a very grumpy canary."

"And the ferret," Lucy said as Kurt snuggled against her shoulder, hiccuping.

"I hate that ferret," David grumbled. "See, now we're doomed. She's going to adopt Kurt. And I'm not prepared to be a father."

Jo rolled her eyes. "Well, in any case, I found out who spiked the punch," she said. "One of my Larks. Tillie Holden. She had an aura of boozy vanilla about her, so I checked her duffel. She had an empty and a half of vanilla Smirnoff. Needless to say, she's no longer a Lark."

Wes shook his head. "I was so sure Blaine had told him not to drink the punch before the game," he said.

"I forgot," Blaine protested.

"You're just lucky that us Warblers could carry the game, even with both of you missing," Wes said. He stuck his hands in the back pockets of his black cargo pants. "At least we won. If we lost to the Larks again, I don't know what I would have done."

"Cried like a little girl?" Jo said sweetly.

Wes glared. "Joanna Neely, if you couldn't sing like an angel and kiss like whoa, I would totally be mad at you right now," he said.

"Okay, TMI," Blaine said, raising his hands.

"You girls had probably get going," David said reluctantly. "It's late, and now that the game's over, your bus will be heading out soon."

Jo checked her watch. "Holy crap, it's late," she said. "Come on, Lu, we'd better go."

"Okay," Lucy said. "Kurt, you have to let go of me, okay?"

"No, you can stay, I'm comfy," he mumbled.

Lucy patted his back. David stepped over and pried Kurt's arms away from Lucy's neck. "She has to go, Kurt," he said gently.

"No," Kurt drawled, still holding onto Lucy's skirt.

"Blaine, a little help here?" David asked.

Blaine sat down on the bed and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, effectively pinning him down. "Geez, he's like an octopus," Wes said. "Never thought he'd be so clingy. I shudder to think what it'll be like when you two actually start dating."

"Wesley, really, can you give me a break?" Blaine sighed.

"Fine," Wes said. "Kill my fun, why don't you."

Jo checked her watch. "Seriously, we'd better go before the bus leaves without us," she said. She walked over to the bed and hugged Blaine. "Good luck with the drunkie, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Jo," he said.

Lucy hugged Blaine, then kissed Kurt on the cheek. "Feel better," she said.

"Mm-hm," Kurt murmured. "Bye."

"We'll hang out over break, okay?" Jo said as Wesley laced his fingers through hers and led her into the hall.

"Sure, just give me a call," Blaine said. He waved a final goodbye as they left and closed the door, then turned his attention to Kurt, who had somehow scooted onto his lap and was nestling his cheek against his chest. "Hey, you. Ready for bed?"

"I'm so sleepy," Kurt yawned.

"Yeah, I know," Blaine said. "Can you lie down?"

"Uh-huh," Kurt said. He plopped down on the bed. "Tuck me in?"

Blaine paused, unable to think of a response that would be mentor-appropriate, failed, and sighed. "Sure," he said. He pulled the sheets and blankets up to Kurt's shoulders and smoothed them out. "Like that?"

"Mm-hm, thanks," Kurt said.

"How's your head feeling?" Blaine asked.

"I don't know," he said, blinking sleepily.

Blaine smiled. "How about you close your eyes and try to get some sleep," he suggested.

"Mmkay," Kurt said. "Can you kiss me goodnight?"

Later, when he thought about it, Blaine was pretty sure he didn't breathe for at least a minute and a half. Especially when Kurt closed his eyes and pouted his rosy lips, apparently waiting for his kiss.

Blaine finally closed his dropped jaw and took a long, deep breath. "No, Kurt," he said quietly. "No goodnight kiss."

He was afraid that Kurt would get upset, and who knew how long his resolve would last at the sight of Kurt in tears, but thankfully Kurt just smiled dreamily and cuddled into the pillows. "Goodnight," he said.

Blaine switched off the overhead light, leaving just the bedside lamp. He rummaged in his small closet and pulled out an extra blanket. His roommate had stripped his bed before leaving for Christmas break, leaving behind just the pillow and comforter on the bare mattress. Blaine spread the blanket over the bed, fluffed the pillow, and unfolded the comforter.

He glanced over at Kurt. Kurt had flipped over onto his stomach, one knee pulled up and his arms curled against his chest. He was fast asleep, his mouth slightly parted and his soft brown hair ruffled over his forehead, the ends curling a little.

Blaine bent over Kurt and smoothed his hair. After a moment, he touched his lips to Kurt's temple. "Goodnight, Kurt," he whispered, and he turned off the lights.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Bahahaha, this story is so rambly and weird.

Originally, this was going to be just be chapters in "Someday You Will Be Loved," but this story turned out to be such a ginormous tangent. Besides, I wanted to write the second half of this in Blaine's POV, and I want to keep SYWBL in Kurt's POV. Also, this is EXTREMELY OC-heavy, so I felt like this would be better off as a separate story, rather than forcing people to read heavy doses of Jo and Lucy in SWYBL.

I hope you enjoyed this. Aside from the long, plodding concert sequence in the first chapter, this was fun to write. I totally love writing drunk!Kurt. One of the first Glee fics I ever wrote was called "Awesome and Delicious," and it's a rewrite of the scene in "The Rhodes Not Taken" when April gives Kurt chablis and he throws up all over Emma's shoes. It's an early attempt, so it's not all that fantastic, but Kat and I make a lot of jokes now about things being awesome and delicious.

I hope Lucy and Jo are okay. They're pretty fun to write, all things considered, but I hope I'm not drowning you in OCs.

But in any case, this was fun.


End file.
